


How the Hound got her armour and the Mole got his skin

by WahlBuilder



Series: Martian Tales [1]
Category: Mars: War Logs, The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Fairy Tale Style, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-23 14:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: A traditional Martian tale of a brave Hound and a Mole seeking help.





	How the Hound got her armour and the Mole got his skin

When the Human angered the Sun, Mars started burning. It burned for four and four tens of years until three great piles of ashes became great mountains and the fourth pile became greater still.

All suffered because of the foolish Human, and if they found shelter from burning fires, they couldn’t find shelter from heat, and if they found shelter from heat, they couldn’t find water.

At last, when the fourth pile pierced the sky and the seas retreated to poles and were covered with ash so thick it became a rock-crust, creatures of Mars decided that they could suffer because of the foolish Human no longer, and each family chose one messenger who would search for the Black-Eyed One and ask for help.

The Shield Toad set into the new canyons that were smouldering still, but the Toad’s thick soles protected them from the heat, and canyon walls protected them from the Sun’s glare. Four and four days they travelled without seeing any light, and in the shade their mind filled with darkness and they forgot about their aim. They burrowed in a wall cave under tightly-packed ash and decided it would be their new home. And so, the shield toads live in canyons and caves and love heat and shade.

The Ostrich couldn’t wait for everyone else, for her small feet burned on the heated ground. She took off without thinking where she was going—any direction was better than standing still, but it didn’t do her good: she ran out under the Sun glare and cried out and ran faster, faster. She saw a Human standing in the shade, and ran to the Human, clattering out as she went, ‘Oh, good Human, wonderful Human, allow me into your shade, and I will carry you whenever you want faster than a sandstorm.’ And the Human let her into the shade, and since that time ostriches carry humans fast as they can, and the soles of their feet are burnt.

The Hound, being the fastest, could outrun them all, but she didn’t know where to find the Black-Eyed One. She asked the Mole, ‘You can smell water, Mole-Brother. Let us and search for the Black-Eyed One together!’

The Mole wasn’t entirely happy about it, but her praise made him puff up his chest. ‘What a good idea this is! I have certainly come up with it just a moment ago and was thinking on how to propose it to you. Truly, great minds think alike.’

The Hound was ready to take off right away but the Mole stopped her, groaning and clutching at his sides. ‘Oh, brave Hound, quick Hound! I cannot run like you, and my feet are singed, and the plains are so ridged and filled with smoke. We shall travel slowly, brave Hound.’

The Hound chittered in annoyance, then shook her head. ‘We have no time, Mole-Brother. Come! I shall let you ride on my back, and we will be quicker than sandstorms.’

The Mole groaned some more and climbed on her back, telling himself, ‘You may be quick on feet, Hound-Sister, but I am quick of the mind.’ 

He raised his head and tasted the air and commanded the Hound to run.

Four and four days and nights they travelled, the quick Hound’s feet carrying them across plains and down canyons. Four and four days and nights they searched, looking into craters and staying away from roiling hot rocks. Four and four days and nights they followed the scent. Four and four days and nights they looked, until only one place was left unsearched—the great Labyrinth of Night.

The Mole did not want to go there, for it was bare and dark and one could not see stars once inside and time moved slowly until one died, but he tasted the oily wetness that was the Black-Eyed One’s trail.

He jumped off the Hound’s back, and they started their descent. Four and four hours they walked as the day was dying over them and winds stopped singing; four and four hours more they walked as the grumble of the ground was dying around them; four and four hours again the searched; four and four hours more they walked as darkness was closing upon them, until they reached the depth of the Labyrinth.

No stars could be seen inside and time was moving slowly, and they could not tell how many hours they had spent descending.

The Hound, brave Hound, did not run forward, but stepped timidly, looking at the great walls. ‘Can you hear the scent, Mole-Brother?’

The Mole was walking beside her, and did not like it, but he tasted the air and said, ‘Yes, Hound-Sister. We are close.’

Four more beats they walked The air grew thicker around them, and thicker still, and lights started dancing like stars—but they were no stars. They walked—and the lights suddenly condensed and formed a figure like great figures in the sky.

‘Children,’ said the Black-Eyed One—for the stars and the darkness and the oily water-scent and dark laughter were them. ‘Come. You must be tired.’

The Hound moved forward, but the Mole talked faster, ‘O Black-Eyed One, we are seeking your help. The Human angered the Sun and brought suffering upon Mars.’

The lights danced and swirled. ‘I know. How does it concern me? The Human will be paying the price for four and four generations.’

‘We are suffering, too, O Black-Eyed One,’ said the Hound. ‘Please, help us.’

‘Who are “we”? Why are you two the only ones who have come?’

‘Others were looking for you, but it seems they haven’t found you.’

‘No, they have not. Strayed they have been, and they will be paying the price, too.’ The lights danced between the Hound and the Mole and stopped by the Hound. ‘You are brave and fast, o Hound. I will give you protection.’

The lights swirled to the great Labyrinth wall and tore a sheet of rock from it. The sheet was stretched and crumpled and stretched and crumpled again until it became thin as a foil but ridged as walls of the Labyrinth itself.

‘O brave Hound,’ said the Black-Eyed One, ‘I give you this armour to protect you from heat in your travels.’

‘And me?’ asked the Mole. ‘What about me? Look at my feet, they are all singed. Look at my skin, it’s all burnt.’

The lights hovered in the air, rumbling like a storm. ‘Your feet, they are not singed. Your skin, it is not burnt. You rode on the Hound’s back when you could have walked. You are fine as you are.’

The Hound lowered herself before the shining stars-that-were-not-stars, and the new armour-skin was placed upon her, fitting perfectly--but then suddenly, the Mole cried out and jumped to the Hound and snatched the skin-armour and tore a piece away.

The stars swirled around and the Mole tumbled away, clutching the rock-skin to himself, as the stars roared and roared like a summer sandstorm. ‘You want the skin-armour?’ the Black-Eyed One asked. ‘Then you shall have it.’ And the stars caught the Mole and pulled the skin-piece over him tight, and he cried because it was too tight.

Thus, the Hound ever carries only a piece of the armour on her head and neck and shoulders, and the Mole is ever groaning in pain and wearing a too-tight skin.


End file.
